Starters, mains, pudding and cheese
by louella
Summary: Alex and Gene share dinner on what Alex thinks will be her last night in 1981. But what is really going through their minds? Little one-shot. Please R R.


They sat across from each other at Luigi's, Italian orchestral music playing softly in the background. The meal had gone well, surprising both of them as they'd slowly discovered that they could, in fact, genuinely enjoy each other's company. As they looked at the desert menus, Gene commented, "It was one hell of a day, Bolly, no thanks to you."

"It was a great day. Mission accomplished," she replied, sipping at her glass of red wine. Something told Gene that she wasn't being entirely frank with him about the Price operation she was running, but tonight was not the time to pursue it. Luigi strolled over, looking happily down at Alex.

"Everything all right?" he enquired. "Signorina Drake. You look beautiful tonight."

Alex smiled at the compliment. She'd spent longer than usual on her appearance that evening, choosing her outfit with care, applying shadow and mascara until her eyes smouldered and finishing the look with a splash of red lipstick. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that Luigi was the only man to notice. "Thank you," she said to him sincerely.

"Bellissima," he continued.

Gene had had enough. "All right, Luigi, no need to dribble into your barolo." It came out sharper than he'd intended. After all, he agreed with the sentiment - Alex looked stunning - but he'd never been comfortable complimenting a woman and he didn't need Luigi rubbing his nose in it.

Alex looked up at Luigi. "I'd just like to say to you that your sea scallops with pineapple rings are a memory I will take to my grave."

"Graze mille, Signorina," he replied. A thought struck him. "Are you going somewhere?"

Gene's attention snared by the question, he listened closely for her answer and gave an almost imperceptible start when he heard it.

"I'm afraid so," she confirmed, reminding Gene that this was the only reason she'd agreed to dinner with him in the first place. He'd somehow managed to push the thought of her leaving out of his mind during the meal but now she'd brought it up again and it left him feeling strangely bereft. Luigi must have sensed his unhappiness as he glanced down at him with concern, before looking again at Alex then shrugging gently and taking his leave.

There was a short pause after Luigi's departure. Alex's face was lit by the glow of the candle on the table between them and to Gene she had never looked lovelier. She sat forward slightly with an intent look on her face. "When I first came here," she said slowly, "the idea of spending time with you filled me with horror. You're insensitive, you're boorish, you're terrified of women -" She paused to take a sip of red as Gene looked up.

"Bollocks," he refuted. "Completely baffled, may be, but not terrified."

"And even after forty years of feminism," she continued, index finger in the air to emphasise her point, "there's still a sizeable rump of intelligent women -"

"Rump," muttered Gene thoughtfully. "Rump. Hmm, it's a good word."

"-Intelligent women who would give their eye teeth to be sitting here with you."

Gene sat back in his chair and looked at Alex consideringly. "What about you, Bolly? Does it make your rump quiver?"

Laughing, Alex replied, "No."

"Good," replied Gene good naturedly. "Because I've seen your rump and I've seen more padding strapped to Ian Botham's legs." Alex's open laughter summoned a rare smile to Gene's lips.

As she looked across, Alex realised that she'd never seen Gene look so relaxed. She flicked back through her memories of 1981 and it dawned on her that she'd never actually seen him smile. She shouldn't be surprised, she thought; smiling did seem somewhat out of character for the Manc Lion image he projected for himself. It was a shame, though. That smile suited him.

She was beginning to understand that there were sides to Gene Hunt that he preferred to keep hidden. She'd seen flashes, though. His determination not to take advantage of her when she'd been drunk and thrown herself at him. The look of genuine concern on his face when he'd rescued her from Chas Cale's place. The vulnerability, shyness even, that he'd shown as he'd asked her out for dinner. He was not a man to let down his barriers easily, but she sensed that despite his gruff exterior, a surprising tenderness lurked deep within. Very deep within.

She looked across at Gene and raised a hand to push her fringe away from her eyes. "It's been hell, Mr Hunt," she told him. "But I think, on the cusp of my leaving, I can honestly say…" She took a deep breath as she tried to frame the thought she was trying to express.

For Gene, the wait seemed endless. "What?" he asked impatiently.

Alex leaned closer. She spoke softly. "I'm going to rather miss you."

Gene stared at her. Her enormous hazel eyes were gazing at him tenderly and he thought fleetingly that a man could drown in them. He took in her words and nodded a couple of times in acknowledgement, before looking down at the table.

"Yeah," he replied inadequately. God, this was hard. "Yeah, and, er, and you, Bolly." His eyes flickered back up to Alex's face and back down again. He was finding it surprisingly hard to hold her gaze.

"Yeah, and you Bolls, what?" asked Alex dryly. He wasn't getting off that easily.

Gene looked up. "Well, you're not bad for a posh bird."

A smile lit up Alex's face as she recognised that even this backhanded compliment would have been difficult for Gene to offer. She would treasure it after she left.

Gene looked down again. She was leaving tomorrow. The thought was nagging at his gut. He'd had an opportunity with her once before but, out of some now inexplicable sense of nobility, he'd turned her down. Was it possible she was giving him a second chance? Did he dare to find out?

Come on, Hunt, he lectured himself. What did he have to lose, after all, if she really was going to be out of his life tomorrow? Nothing to lose, but perhaps everything to win. He took a deep breath, tried to control the sudden pounding of his heart and settled on a form of words that he hoped would leave his pride intact if it all went wrong.

"You know, erm" he said, looking up but then quickly away again, "we could, er, pop upstairs to your place." He forced himself to look into her eyes, his own shining with what he hoped would be an unidentifiable emotion. "There's a VHS of _They Died With Their Boots On_ propping up the coffee table." An offer no woman could refuse.

The wait for her answer seemed interminable. Alex admitted to herself that she was tempted. Very tempted. This Gene - the one with the tender expression, the naked vulnerability, the promise of passion unleashed - she liked him very much. And as she stared into his clear, grey eyes, she knew she might well regret passing up the opportunity to take things further with Gene. But deep down she knew she had to prioritise saving her parents and getting home to Molly. Succumbing to her feelings for Gene would create an extra complication she really didn't need. And, she conceded , she also didn't want to expose herself or Gene to the hurt that could be caused by taking him up on the offer she read in his eyes.

She leaned closer to him across the table. Gene saw it in her eyes. She was going to turn him down, he knew it, but still he hoped.

"It's a big day tomorrow," she said gently. Gene nodded and looked down. He didn't want her to witness the hurt and disappointment he feared would be clear in his expression. "The biggest day," she continued. They each took a gulp of wine to fill the pause that followed. Alex's mind drifted towards her plans for saving her parents tomorrow. Gene held his menu across him like a shield. He reckoned he would escape with his pride undented, but somehow that was little compensation for emptiness he was feeling inside.


End file.
